Transendence

by Jared Teer

  “That’s cool and all,” said Darion, “but didn’t you say something like ‘serving in the Host is to forsake the pleasures of eternity’—for a time, at least. My friend is in trouble, and the sooner I can help him, the better.”

  “Indeed,” said Hughes with a smile. “Still, you should inform your family of your decision. Also, there are some matters that you may want to attend to before we begin your training—your … funeral and memorial services, in particular.”

  “My … funeral?” said Darion.

  “The service will be held this upcoming Wednesday, the seventh,” said Hughes. “Most people like to attend their funeral—to see who shows up. Your grandparents are going, and your living family and friends will be there.”

  “Man, sounds like the place to be,” Darion replied, sarcasm obvious in his tone.

  “I understand,” said Hughes. “Some people decide to sit their funerals out; the experience can be trying.”

  “No,” said Darion, “I’ll go. I’d like to see my parents … and Julia. This is all so crazy though.”

  “It’s tough, Darion,” said Hughes, “but, so are you.”

  Darion gave an apathetic “hmph.”

  “Come on, Darion,” said Hughes, “let’s get back to the party.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good,” said Darion.

  “Everything will work out for the best,” said Hughes. “Hey, how about we take this opportunity for a first lesson—teleportation?”

  “Sweet,” said Darion.

  “As I mentioned earlier,” said Hughes, “command of the Essence depends mostly on faith and imagination. But, concentration is the key. There is no mystical secret to commanding the Essence. You think it, concentrate on it, believe it, and do it. Concentration is the key. Concentration is what activates the Essence, otherwise our powers would run out of control with every thought that entered our minds. There is a difference between concentration and mere thought. For example, I think the word fly, but I don’t fly simply because I thought the word. To fly, I must think fly, and so concentrate on it that it becomes an act. It will take more concentration to command the Essence at first, but once you get the feel for it, you will be able to manifest actions more quickly.

  “So, now for teleportation. First, you must visualize … ”

  Hughes stopped mid-sentence with his mouth open. In a flash, Darion collapsed into a small ball of light and disappeared. Hughes stood there for a moment and then folded his arms. A few seconds later, Darion appeared before Hughes.

  “Are you coming?” Darion asked. “I got to the courtyard and I didn’t see you.”

  “Impressive—you’re a natural,” said Hughes and they both teleported back to the courtyard.

  CHAPTER 4

  The Halls of Glory

  It was a bright, cloudless day in Irving, Texas. A good day for a funeral, according to Paw-paw. Darion had spent the days since his ascension socializing at his party and being shown around his mansion, though the time seemed to pass more like hours than days. Still, Jacob’s plight weighed heavily on his mind, and he was eager to begin training.

  Aside from wanting to train, Darion had mixed feelings about attending his own funeral. On the one hand, he longed to see his parents, his friends, and, especially, Julia. On the other, he was terrified at the prospect of seeing his own lifeless body. “Relax, it’s a closed casket,” Granddad had told him, apparently oblivious to the macabre. Then there was the worry that few people would attend. That fear was assuaged when Darion, along with his grandparents, uncle, and Hughes, teleported to the church. “It’s a good turnout,” Nana told Darion. There were at least fifty people in attendance—family members, friends, and military buddies.

  His team members who’d died in the attack that cost him his life attended as well. He’d missed their funerals (the services were held while he was still in his medically induced coma). He made them all a promise: he would free Jacob from his tormentors.

  Darion’s parents sat in the front pew, his dad looking sharp in a black suit, and his mom lovely in a black dress. Darion’s dad held her hand as they looked somberly at the casket before them. Julia sat beside them wearing a black pantsuit, sobbing and looking down. Even with her mascara beginning to run from her tears, Darion thought she was as beautiful as ever.

  Darion sat by Julia as the service commenced, the latter completely oblivious to his presence. The other Ascended opted for a bird’s eye view of the proceedings, hovering high above the pews. The pastor presiding over the service spoke of the frailty of life and the hope of eternal, heavenly peace. The time came for the attendees to give remarks, with some of Darion’s friends and family taking the opportunity to tell stories about him and pay tribute to his character. The pastor concluded the service with the eulogy, after which the six-man army honor guard carried the casket to the hearse that would take it to the cemetery. Darion’s parents, Julia, and a couple of immediate relatives—and Darion, unbeknownst to them—rode in the limousine that followed the hearse.

  The procession arrived shortly at Peaceful Prairie Memorial Park. There was a tent erected over the gravesite with seats lined up for the mourners. Darion was glad to see his loved ones and the homage they paid to him, but he was growing weary of their sadness and was eager to be done with the ordeal. He stood by Julia as she shuddered with each shot the honor guard fired in a three-volley salute. The honor guards folded the American flag draped over Darion’s casket, presented it to his mother, and the service was concluded. The mourners began to file out—Darion’s parents and Julia were the last to leave the site. Darion and the other Ascended remained behind after the others had left.

  “Are you okay, son?” Granddad asked him.

  “I’m fine, Granddad,” he assured him, his gaze focused on the undertakers now covering his casket with dirt. “Hughes,” Darion said abruptly, “I’m ready.”

  “Right,” said Hughes, “then it’s off to Polaris.”

  Darion’s grandparents and uncle hugged him and gave him encouraging words for his training.

  “So, I just focus on Polaris and then I’m there, right?” Darion asked Hughes.

  “Wait a second,” said Hughes. “It’s not that simple. To teleport somewhere, you have to have been to that place to visualize where you want to appear. You’ve never been to Polaris. You could end up appearing in the star’s core or somewhere thousands of miles away from the Command Center. How about I handle this one?”

  With that, Hughes emitted a ring of light and whisked them both away.

  Polaris: designation and base of operations for the Ascended Host. The base—the size of a metroplex—hovered, encapsulated in a force-field dome in the atmosphere, completely engulfed by the light yellow flames of the super-giant star.

  They materialized in a great hall amidst a thick crowd of Ascended and Bots.

  “This is the reception hall of the Command Center,” said Hughes. “This is where most choose to materialize when teleporting to Polaris.”

  “This is amazing!” said Darion as he looked around.

  Tall pillars, intricately etched in silver and gold, extended upward but supported no roof. Far above the peaks of the pillars, a sky of white-yellow flames danced outside the invisible dome. Beneath their feet, a highly polished silvery floor mirrored all above.

  Around them swarmed stern-faced Ascended, moving briskly to and fro, many giving Hughes a nod and Darion a smile.

  “These are our comrades in the Ascended Host,” said Hughes. “Polaris is not only the Host’s home base, but a community and training facility as well. Some people actually live here on Polaris. Many are full-time Polaris staff, and others are warriors going to and from missions. Polaris is also home of the Halls of Glory: a training facility where we can study spiritual or transphysical warfare and hone our combat skills.”

  “Is that where we’re going?” asked Darion.

  “Yes,” said Hughes. “First, I want to take you to the Command Center and introduce yo
u to the commander, and then I’ll give you the tour.”

  “Cool,” said Darion. “Who’s the commander?”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard of him from reading the Bible,” said Hughes. “He is Enoch, great-grandfather of Noah.”

  A questioning look came across Darion’s face. “Enoch never died, right?” said Darion. “He was taken up directly by God himself.”

  “True,” said Hughes. “Favor was found in him, and he was taken up to be prepared by the angels for his appointment as head of the Ascended Host.”

  They made their way through the reception hall to the great door of the Command Center. In the wall of the Command Center, there was a huge, golden, capital letter H with another capital H stacked atop it, resembling two parallel vertical lines with two horizontal parallel lines between them. The door to the Command Center comprised the area below the bottom horizontal line, a solid, reflective silvery metal.

  “The symbol in the wall is like the one on my waist band,” said Darion.

  “Of course,” said Hughes. “It’s the symbol of the Heavenly Host: stacked H’s.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Darion. “This symbol was on my band before I agreed to serve in the Host.”

  Hughes gave a chuckle. “Was it now?” he said. “Let’s just say your choice was anticipated.”

  Darion smiled.

  As they neared the door, the thick slab of metal shot upward and disappeared into the wall. The door opened into a long, wide room. Things seemed as hectic inside the Command Center as in the reception hall. In the center of the room floated a three-dimensional projection of the earth, around which many members of the Host were standing and conversing. A large horizontal arc of bluish light, like a projected screen, rounded the walls except at the entrance and extended upward a few stories. On the arc were live images of places on earth—crowds of people, images of individuals at home and about—some pleasant, some not so much. There were panels around the walls at which people sat, working and examining the various scenes; some hovered in the air or sat in floating seats examining images higher up on the projected arc. There were metal staircases to the left and right that rounded up to, and appeared to be supporting, a wide, circular platform resting high above the floor.

  “This is the Command Center,” said Hughes. “The images on the viewing arc are coming in live from earth. The command seat is upstairs.”

  They made their way up the steps and onto the platform. Around the edge of the platform sat people at workstations facing the viewing arc. A metal walkway extended like a peninsula from the forefront of the platform, ending in a spherical metal orb in which sat a man with a blue halo around his head. The man seemed to be giving orders to unknown listeners, as if speaking into a headset, as the sphere in which he sat spun this way and that.

  “That’s Enoch, the commander,” said Hughes.

  The commander’s torso, in a white blazer with a white shirt and white and gold tie, protruded from the spherical chair connected to the platform. He appeared to be strongly built, but, unlike anyone else Darion had seen, the commander looked slightly aged. He had dark brown skin with a smooth complexion and a stern face. His black hair was short, with grey showing on the tapered sides and in his beard.

  “He looks older than everyone else,” said Darion. “He has grey hair. I thought the Essence sustained us, sustained a youthful appearance?”

  “That’s just the commander’s preference,” said Hughes. “Through mastery of the Essence, we can even control our appearance. The commander prefers the refined look.”

  Enoch glanced over and saw Hughes.

  “Ah, Joseph,” said the commander.

  His spherical chair disconnected from the peninsular extension and floated over to Hughes and Darion.

  “Good day, commander,” said Hughes.

  “Hello, sir,” Darion said to the commander.

  “Hello, Darion,” said the commander. “It’s good to finally meet you in person. My name is Enoch, I’m the commander of the Ascended Host. I’m familiar with your self- sacrificing deeds on earth. I must say, it’s good to have you on the team.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Darion.

  “Sorry to interrupt you, commander,” said Hughes. “I thought I’d introduce Darion to you before I gave him the tour.”

  “No problem, Hughes,” said the commander. “I’m pretty good at multitasking. Even now I’m corresponding telepathically with agents throughout the universe.” The commander looked to Darion. “Are you excited, my boy?” he asked him. “Eager to learn, I’m sure.”

  “Definitely, sir,” said Darion.

  “Good, good,” said the commander. “You’d be hard-pressed to find a better teacher than Hughes here. He’s one of the wisest and one of the most skilled combatants we have in the Host. Isn’t that right, Hughes?”

  “Well, you said it,” said Hughes.

  “Always modest,” said the commander. “Well, I guess I can tell Darion a little about the Command Center before you give him the tour of Polaris.”

  Darion and Hughes thanked the commander.

  “Basically,” said Enoch, “the Command Center is where we monitor the earth and enemy activity. We assess situations and decide the best course of action to take given the circumstances. Missions are delegated through me to the various agents of the Host. That is, requests from those who believe in the Creator still reach him even though he is out of this dimension for a time. He relays his instructions to me telepathically, and I, in turn, deploy Ascended agents to execute his will. This could range from anything to watching over one of the faithful, to confronting enemy forces. Sometimes the Ascended come here requesting permission to intervene in certain affairs on earth.”

  They made their way around the Command Center, with the commander introducing Darion to various staff members. Darion learned about the workings of the viewing arc and its applications for tracking and monitoring beings on earth. He learned of how the commander used the Essence to communicate with Ascended all over the galaxy—the blue halo around his head being the manifestation of that ability.

  “That’s about it,” said the commander upon concluding the tour of the Command Center. “This is how things operate until the Creator returns, which we all feel will be sooner than later. No one knows when, but the return of the Creator, the Redeemer, and the angelic Host to this dimension will herald the final confrontation with the enemy and peace for all creation… Until then, we fight the good fight… Well, you have much more to see here on Polaris, and I’m sure you’re eager to begin your training.”

  Darion and Hughes thanked the commander and then exited the Command Center. They picked up a bite to eat at a Bot-run diner and then made their way by flight around the city, observing many sights—the residential district, the engine core that sustained the base’s orbit, the fringes of the city, where, through the dome energy barrier, they could see the surface of the star, a flaming sea of white hot plasma—until finally arriving at the Halls of Glory: the training center of the Host.

  “This is it,” said Hughes as they touched down in front of the massive gate, “the Halls of Glory. Wisdom and power reside in these walls. Here, we will begin your training.”

  Darion gazed wide eyed at the monumental wall and gate before him. The wall was of a silvery metal, at least one hundred feet high, with the names of countless Ascended etched on its face in gold. The golden gate was formed in the shape of the massive stacked H’s of the Host of Heaven, with the lowermost horizontal line level with the top of the wall.

  They walked up the golden walkway through the gates and into the grounds of the training center. Far ahead of them lay the Halls of Glory, an enormous complex of shimmering gold. On either side of the golden walkway lay expanses of brilliantly white sands. On the grounds, there were many warriors of the Host engaged in hand-to-hand combat sparring, with some fighting against multiple Bots: every connecting blow a senseshattering clap as loud as a gunshot.

  The
y both stood and watched the action.

  “What’s the point of fighting for immortal beings?” asked Darion. “How is the winner determined?”

  “We’re immortal, yes,” replied Hughes, “but not invulnerable. The fact that we can experience physical pleasure opens us to the ability to feel physical discomfort as well. We can be injured in a clash with another transphysical being. True, we cannot be killed, and our injuries regenerate at an exponential rate—but in a struggle against another such entity, the Essence can be taxed to exhaustion, whether the Essence is used for attack or defense, regenerating injuries or causing them.

  “When the Essence is so exhausted, one can be restrained by an adversary. Another method of besting a foe is through particle dispersal. This results when an attack is so devastating that it disassembles the opponent at the molecular level. Again, this cannot destroy us, but it can take quite some time for the Essence to rejuvenate to a point where it can regenerate the body.

  “A great advantage goes to the being with the greater Essence, hence, the necessity for training. One gains more endurance in the Essence through meditation and practice, which allows the Essence to concentrate and grow—much like a runner whose cardiovascular strength increases with practice. Determination, though, is key as well, and the more determined warrior can often best an opponent who possesses greater Essence.”

  Darion nodded in understanding and they proceeded up the walkway toward the training facility. An aerial view would reveal that the building was in the shape of a colossal capital H, each section comprising one of five great halls. The horizontal section formed the Hall of Knowledge (the largest library in the universe) and divided the two vertical sections into four halls, two above the library and two below.

  The golden walkway branched into three toward the facility—one section keeping straight leading to the library, with the others forking to the left and right to the training halls. Darion and Hughes headed straight for the library through the massive courtyard formed by the Hall of Knowledge ahead and the halls on either side.